Beneath the Green Tree
by Forever Jake
Summary: Incomplete. A reinvention of the story of the Fall.
1. The Poem

"Beneath the green tree"  
  
In the garden of the stars  
  
You were mine and I was yours  
  
And we were both each others, ours  
  
Beneath the green tree.  
  
In the garden, it is true  
  
You killed me and I killed you  
  
And as we died I married you  
  
Beneath the green tree.  
  
The garden wilted, the earth was cracked  
  
You struck me and I struck you back  
  
And I saw red and you saw black  
  
Beneath the green tree.  
  
Beneath the stars, beneath the sky  
  
As we fought I caught your eye  
  
And you were dead and so was I  
  
Beneath the green tree. 


	2. In the Garden of the Stars

"Beneath the Green Tree" Part I - "In the garden of the stars"  
  
***  
  
"In the garden of the stars / You were mine and I was yours / And we were both each others, ours / Beneath the green tree."  
  
***  
  
Lucian had awoken, terrified, in the twilit silence of the forest, with nothing to his name but his skin, and even the ownership of that remarkable organ doubtful. The beauty, the color, the overwhelming reality of existence had shocked and frightened him to his very core. The sweet- smelling air had suffocated him; the whispers of the wind had assaulted his ears; the glaring, utter sharpness in the green of the trees had been blinding; the tickle of the grass moving beneath him had made his skin shiver. He had lain there, as if dead, in the soft, lush grasses for hours beyond counting before the initial near-heart-attack of surprise and bewilderment had worn off.  
  
Then, when he had found he could move, the enormity of the world he had unwittingly plunged into had become multiplied a hundred fold. The subtle change in perspective by tilting his head to the left, or by sitting up, or by closing one eye or the other, had astounded and confused him. Presently, he had found his legs moved as well as his arms and neck, and (after some brief practice) he had stood to view the world from a new height. He had learned then that there was even more to this paradise of the senses than the clearing he had viewed from the ground; from atop one's legs, he had found, one could see to even farther horizons than before. He had longed to expand his meager view even farther, and so, stumbling, he had taken his first step.  
  
The ants, no doubt, could not have understood the mammoth pink appendage crashing down on their fortress of dirt and clay; nor could they have sympathized with the doddering, infant-like stumble of a creature's first footstep and let the owner of the invading foot off with a warning. Lucian, similarly, could not have foreseen the enormity of his mistake of targeting the ants' gray mound as the landing sight for his heel, and as the creatures had begun to climb up his heel, followed by his ankle and beyond, he had not immediately comprehended the prickly sensations of the creatures' legs upon his. Only when the first of the insects had angrily sunk its gnashing mandibles into Lucian's flesh had he realized that the tiny animals were not crawling up him in order to 'play'.  
  
Like a racehorse, knowing for the first time the flare of pain delivered by whip to its hindquarters, Lucian had at once become aware of the unpleasant sensation of having one's legs gnawed by maddened insects. His face had contorted in anguish; the torment to the wounded area had been burning. His mind had erupted in the simple emotions of anger, agony - and fear. Instinct had told him to run from the source of this unpleasantness, and run he had, as fast as his inexperienced legs had been able to carry him.  
  
He had climbed a hill and stumbled blindly down its far side, nearly spilling himself in its surprisingly steep recess. He had crashed blindly through the otherwise silent forests like some raging, primeval beast, provoking the unprepared bird population into the safety and solitude of the skies. He had staggered madly through the pristine world that surrounded him, and likely would have continued on in a similar fashion for some time had he not, by the purest accident, charged directly into a pond.  
  
The cool water had jolted him from his flight, the freezing calm of the pool relieving, if momentarily only, the pain in his leg. He had immersed himself - slowly at first, then faster and with much rejoicing - into the welcoming shallows, and for the second time in his lifespan of twenty minutes, he had felt pure ecstasy.  
  
It was then, as he was lying in the cold clarity of the pond, his senses once more in exultation of the world they had mercifully been allowed to sample, that a disturbance at the far end of the pool took his attention. A creature was washing itself in the more distant shallows, its forelimbs gingerly moving the soft caresses of the water of its fragile form. Lucian, by his own will or not, drifted nearer to the creature, his eyes full of wonder. The creature had not been disturbed, as the birds had, as Lucian had come crashing into the pond; nor had it seemed to have even noticed; nor had it noticed him as he lay bathing in the pool's cool stretches. The creature struck Lucian as very beautiful, more so even than the myriad other facets of the glittering world that had so enthralled his senses.  
  
He drew up in front of the creature, and at once it noticed him. It did not, however, flee (as had the birds) or attack (as had the ants). Instead, it merely rose to stand erect in the water and stare at Lucian in interest. It seemed to Lucian suddenly that this was no mere dumb beast, but a being that possessed some innate intelligence. It also occurred to him in that moment that perhaps he did as well. Lucian wondered if the same realizations were go through the creature's mind at that moment, for its eyes glowed with cunning and curiosity.  
  
It is studying me, Lucian realized. And I am studying it.  
  
Speech is a strange thing, and Lucian was not aware he was capable of it until the word 'Hello' tumbled awkwardly out of his mouth. The sound was not random, he assured itself; but though it had been spoken seemingly by instinct, he could derive no meaning behind the word. The creature, however, seemed to make perfect sense of it, for it - she, he suddenly realized - blushed, and returned it with her own quiet 'hello, then'. She backed away a step, but kept her eyes on him.  
  
He tried again. "Lucian," he said, pointing to himself.  
  
"Lucian," she repeated, and then pointed to herself. "Aliena." The name struck Lucian as the most perfect in the world. He reached out to touch her, but she recoiled, withdrawing from within the range of his fingertips. He boldly took a step towards her and tried again. She shuddered, but this time, she did not back away further. He moved his hand over the top of her shoulder. She placed her hand on top of his and looked up at him - she was a little less than his height - her eyes smiling. He grinned back.  
  
She ended their touch (embrace? he wondered), turned, and walked away. He remained some distance behind, but followed. She approached a bush and plucked a berry into her mouth, chewing it as she walked. As Lucian passed the same bush, he copied her, plunging an identical berry down his own gullet. It was as he tasted the sweet flavor of the thing that he realized how famished he felt. He went back to the bush, and plucked several handfuls of the shiny, violet jewels from the generous branches, dropping one after the other into his devouring maw. He emptied the tree in a matter of minutes, filling his belly with the delicious morsels.  
  
He turned to speak of the joyous taste of the berries to his companion, but she had disappeared into the garden's vast expanse. He dropped the remaining berries from his hands and ran after her.  
  
He found her, later, curled up beneath the branches of a great, green oak, fast asleep. Not for the last time, she appeared to him a truly beautiful creature, perfect in every way. As he watched her doze, his own lethargy suddenly stuck him, do doubt induced by the meal of the berry bush. He fell to earth beside and blackness overcame him.  
  
*** 


	3. You Killed Me and I Killed You

"Beneath the Green Tree" Part II - "You Killed Me and I Killed You"  
  
***  
  
"In the garden, it is true / You killed me and I killed you / And as we died I married you / Beneath the green tree."  
  
***  
  
They were seldom apart after that first meeting, as if, like flies and flypaper, they had become so hopelessly stuck to one another that to separate again would require at least one of their deaths. They slept together, in the literal sense; together, they ate and bathed; they laughed and talked together; and together, they traversed the garden's ever-twilit paths. The stars, so high above, which illuminated their pristine world, were recaptured, they thought, in the glow of one another's eyes. The shade of the great tree that they had first fallen asleep under - and that they continued to make their bed-place, day after day - covered all that they could see, shielding their forms from over-exposure to the luminous, far- away stars.  
  
They had learned, slowly at first then with steadily increasing progress, to speak to one another, each teaching the other new words to describe the paradise in which they found themselves. They named the pools, the hills, the trees; they named the birds in the air, the fish in the ponds, and the small animals which inhabited the forests with them. They spoke of their love for one another, and for their home, and of a great many other things as well.  
  
Lucian often wondered, afterward, if those had not been the best days of his life. For a lengthy time, he was content to walk with Aliena the garden's same wooded paths and secret vales they had always walked; to climb the same small hills and descend the same slight valleys they had always climbed and descended; and to enjoy the company of the same mostly- harmless animals they had always enjoyed. But as time wore on, Lucian grew tired of seeing the same grassy clearing every day, of following the same routes he had always followed, and of watching the same flock of doves flit about in the skies above. The world hang long ago lost its immediate luster in his eyes, its polysensual attraction forgotten and the memory of that attraction forsaken for restless boredom.  
  
One day, as they followed the same meandering garden path through the fruit grove to the south of the great tree under which they slept, they stopped to cool off in a shaded pool, for there was little wind that day to cool them from the constant shining of the stars. Perhaps because of the walking and perhaps because of the heat, Aliena quickly fell asleep as she floated on her back in the pond, and for the first time in a long while, Lucian was left to himself.  
  
He swam the length and width of the pool for several minutes, and then his curiosity got the better of him. He knew with acquired familiarity that the pond in which they floated was fed by a small creek, which nursed it at the southernmost end, opposite where Aliena slept. It was by chance, however, that he had never explored the creek itself, for he and his companion were normally content to sojourn at the pond for an hour or so and then be on their way down the path. Deciding that his mate would likely not awake for quite a while, he made up his mind to brave the current and the unknown and explore new territory.  
  
At first, the strength of the current surprised him, but he quickly mastered it, and was able to swim against it with little effort up the stream. The creek then bent westward, however, and the current intensified; he now was required to rest on the banks after every few minutes to regain his breath, lost as it was in the battle against the force of the water. After he had been swimming for a good half an hour, so it seemed to his mental clock, the course of the tiny river began to curve northward, and then, after another half an hour, eastward.  
  
He guessed at this point that Aliena would have awakened, and, seen him missing, continued along the path, content to seek him at the tree when her walk was finished. He doubted she would fear for him; after all, what was there to threaten either of them in this paradise?  
  
The current was very strong now, and he was stopping more and more often for breath. It had now curved southward again, and he could tell from the visible overhang of the great tree that he was on its eastern side.  
  
"Amazing," he said, to no one but himself. "Suppose it circles the entire garden? I could end up right where I'd begun!"  
  
It did seem that that was the case as the river shifted back westward, dipping below the point dead east of the great tree. He was passing various exits from the stream now as it churned on by him, and he supposed that this one river must feed each of the half-dozen or so small pools that dotted the garden. Something else strange had also caught his attention now: rising over the tops of the smaller trees was a suddenly visible wall of the smoothest rock, not yet near enough to touch, but clearly very close. As he continued to swim alongside the riverbanks (and river it was now, a great, frothing, churning river), the immense stone formation drew nearer and nearer, until he could move his hand along it if he stood on the shore. He got out of the deeper water and waded along the shallows, following the great, gray wall with his arm. Looking up, he could see that the great mountain extended a mere eighty feet (or so); too high for him to climb, but dwarfed by the seemingly infinite height of the tree which shaded the garden.  
  
It was by now nearly three hours since he'd left Aliena in the pond, and he judged himself to at nearly a forty-five degree angle to the southeast of the great tree's trunk. A sound was beginning to emerge from the buzzing of insects and cooing of birds that always filled his ears; a sort of consistent, crashing sound, as if a heavy oak were repeatedly falling into the raging river.  
  
The source of the sound soon came into view: a waterfall was feeding the river from a hole nearly three quarters of the way up the sheer rock face. The falls fell into a deep, dark pool at the mountain's foot, which overflowed into the speeding riverbed. Lucian watched as water fell nearly sixty feet from the break in the stone to the pool, flowed over into the riverbed, and surged past him, away and around the bend to the north. In a moment of bravery - or was it recklessness? he would later ask himself - he dove headlong into the dark pool beneath the pounding falls and disappeared beneath the surface.  
  
He'd planned to swim across the pool to find the one he'd left three hours before, which he judged to be more or less directly on the other side. He had not accounted, however, for the severe downward force of the cascading water from the falls on top of him, and he was plunged far beneath the surface quite quickly.  
  
He held his breath, enjoying the opportunity to explore this submerged world he had never even known the existence of and blissfully unaware of the risk of drowning. He eyed the soft patterns of the light upon the floor of the pool, and of the gently bending rocks that lined its walls. He was beginning to wonder about leaving the pool when he saw the hole. The hole gaped about five feet in diameter, along what he guessed to be the western side of the pool. He made for this as his target, fighting against the crushing weight of the water above. He neared the void and peered inside, and, once more throwing caution to the winds, he surged forward through it.  
  
Just as he crossed the threshold, a powerful force of rising water forced him sideways into wall of the cave, and he lost consciousness.  
  
He floated up, carried by the water, to the surface of the second pool, disturbing its tranquility and drawing the attention of the body floating there. The wave deposited him along the shore of the pool. Aliena waded ashore and attempted to wake him, and, unable to do so, hefted him (somewhat) onto her back and half-carried, half-dragged him back to the tree.  
  
***  
  
Lucian awoke not knowing if his memory of the previous day's aquatic episode was truth or fantasy, but left with the feeling that it was to be believed. Aliena was not present when he awoke, as she had gone to gather berries, and so he could not ask her what had happened. He wandered about on his own for a time, staying near the tree, and did his best to recall his adventure in the most complete detail possible. He had just reached the part of the wall of stone, and wondered what lay beyond it, when he happened to look up.  
  
Above him, the mammoth branches of the great tree loomed, and beyond them, the stars. As he looked at them, a plan began to form in his mind. From atop the tree's extremities, he reasoned, he could easily see over the paltry mountain on to what lay behind it. He felt as though a treasured wish had come to fruit, for he had hungered and thirsted for a glimpse of new lands, and now it seemed these were available for the viewing. It was with this in mind that he set about climbing.  
  
The climb was not difficult, there being branches of smaller bulk near the bottom of the trunk for the habitation of various birds, which Lucian unfortunately disturbed several times. Whenever this occurred, he would grip the branch above him for support and brave the angry wing storm. Despite these pauses, he quickly rose high above the tops of the other trees, and neared the place where he would be able to view the distant locales behind the mountain barrier, which he could now see encircled the entire garden (as did the river).  
  
Again, he looked up, and he immediately forgot about the mountain or what it might hide.  
  
He was near-surrounded by a field of plump, glowing objects, many of which were just out of his reach. He looked at them with wonder and curiosity, and suddenly he understood. They were not stars that shone down from above the tree's shading, masking branches; at least not stars of the traditional sense. They did not shine from above the branches at all, but from within them; for they hung, like lamps from the inner recesses of the branches themselves. Lucian longed to reach out and touch one - just one! - so that he might know their warmth, which he imagined to be wondrous, within his grasp.  
  
He climbed higher, one hand outstretched towards those fruit - for fruit they were - that yet remained above him. He could see that many more shone far above, and that they were far brighter even than the beautiful things that glittered around him now. He climbed higher still, yearning to reach the top, where, he reasoned, the best and brightest of the fruit must hang.  
  
He gasped. One hung just within his reach.  
  
"I will take it," he said to himself with glee, "and after it, I will scale the tree and take the rest!"  
  
He stretched out his arm; he could nearly grasp it. He raised his leg to prop himself up on a tiny side branch, and pushed with all his strength towards the glittering orb. His fingers closed around it; it was heavy in his hand, much more so than he would have supposed from its light color. He tugged, and there was a quiet, satisfying crack as he plucked it from its stem.  
  
It was followed by a much louder crack.  
  
The branch on which he had pushed with his leg gave way, and he watched the tree rise past him. As he fell by it, he shot out a single arm to grip a branch, his other still curled around the precious prize. His grip on the branch slipped, and he fell to earth.  
  
Behind him, the branch he had slipped off shook violently from the release of his weight. Dozens of the precious morsels, disturbed by the movement, fell from their branches with inaudible snaps and cracks and followed the downwardly rushing Lucian towards the ground.  
  
He struck the ground, and a cloud of dust flew up.  
  
They struck the ground, and craters formed.  
  
He shielded his head with his hands. The ground splintered as a score of the hefty fruit landed all around him. Dust and dirt choked him, and he lay gasping and coughing for several moments. Suddenly, he thought of Aliena. He had at least had a few moments' warning; she would have had none. He searched for her along the path, and found her beside a pool, nursing her left arm. Lucian could see that the water was turning red where she lay. He ran to her.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked. She looked up. She had not heard him coming.  
  
"I will be," she answered. He found a fallen banana leaf and made a crude sling for her, and they retreated to the base of the tree. When she saw the devastation the falling fruit had wrought there, where many of them had landed in close proximity, she stopped. The soft earth was cracked and uneven. Smaller trees had been struck down, or uprooted when their soil was scattered. Several catlike animals lay dead in pools of dusty blood.  
  
"L-Lucian," she stammered, "what have you done?"  
  
He was quick to defend himself. "I was climbing. You see, yesterday, when you were sleeping, I went exploring up the creek. It went all around the garden, and I found a huge wall of stone that also goes around everything. I wanted to see what lay beyond, and so I climbed the tree. But when I got high enough..." He trailed off, and shifted his eyes to the ground, searching for something. He found it near his left ankle, half-buried in displaced earth. He picked up the fruit and dusted it off; miraculously, it had not been damaged, which was quite strange considering the damage it and the others had caused to all they had touched in their descent.  
  
"I saw this." He cupped both of his hands around it and held it forward, as if presenting some rare and invaluable treasure.  
  
"A fruit?" She obviously did not understand.  
  
"Not just any fruit," he told her. "It is a star! There are hundreds of them, maybe thousands, hanging up there from the tree! When I reached for it, I slipped and fell, and they must have come off and fallen with me."  
  
She stared at him quizzically. "What are you saying, Lucian?"  
  
"Don't you understand? The stars aren't above the tree -they're in it! We can seize them, hold them! We can - we can eat them!" He held the fruit to her face. She wrinkled her nose, as if smelling something unpleasant.  
  
"Why on earth would we want to do that?"  
  
"Because!" he replied. "Don't you see? We were trapped here. The river, the wall, even the tree - they were all barriers we thought we could not pass. And now we know we can pass them! Truly, no barrier on earth can hold us!" He redrew the fruit to his breast and held it to him like a loving parent would hold an infant.  
  
"And now," he said quietly, caressing his prize, "I'm going to prove it." He lifted the fruit to his lips and took a bite of its red husk. He closed his eyes. The taste was unremarkable, but immediately other things took his attention. He could suddenly hear what had been inaudible: the twittering of the birds in a faraway tree; the distant rumblings of the falls; the rustle of the wind in the leaves of the great tree, scores of feet above. He opened his eyes, and all he saw took on new detail. He saw as if for the first time the deep blue of the water, the shady green of the trees, the coarse brown of the dirt and the soft yellow of the flowers.  
  
For the first time, he looked at Aliena's pure, naked form and felt aroused.  
  
He stepped towards her and held out the fruit, the single bite marring its crimson surface.  
  
"Take it," he said. "There are many around. We have more than enough to share."  
  
"No thank you," she said, backing away. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.  
  
"Take it," he whispered, his breath hot on her face.  
  
She struggled to get away; he held her fast. She pushed; he pulled. She clawed at his arm with her nails. Crying out in anger, he slapped her cheek, knocking her to the ground with his newfound strength. He threw the apple at her, its weight striking her hard across the forehead. She lay still.  
  
Realizing at once what he had done, Lucian knelt and held her hand. He began to cry - great, awful tear that streamed down his face and dropped onto hers. She did not stir.  
  
***  
  
Up above, lightning flashed. Rain fell for the first time on paradise, and for the first time, Lucian understood how wonderful it had been before it had been destroyed - before he had destroyed it. He threw back he head and wailed, his voice loud and dreadful in the twilight.  
  
Thunder roared. The lightning came again. There was a loud crack in the darkness above. Lucian looked up. A huge shape was falling towards him. He blinked, his sharpened senses making him understand. The lightning had struck the tallest object - the tree - and disconnected on of its more mammoth branches. The branch, guided by gravity acting on ties bulk, fell to earth.  
  
The massive slab of oak struck ground right on top of where Lucian sat, it seemed. A great fissure opened beneath his feet, and he was falling - falling away from the light, falling away from Aliena.  
  
*** 


	4. I Saw Red and You Saw Black

"Beneath the Green Tree" Part III - "I Saw Red and You Saw Black"  
  
***  
  
"The garden wilted, the earth was cracked / I struck you and you struck me back / And I saw red and you saw black / Beneath the green tree."  
  
***  
  
When his consciousness returned, Lucian could not help but believe he was dead. He had no notion of death, having never died or seen something die, but he was pretty sure that if it was possible for him to suddenly and painfully cease to live, what he was feeling then is what it would feel like. He ached all over, and it seemed at first he could not move. His eyes seemed to refuse to focus, and showed only blackness as though he were blind. A quiet, steady ringing seemed to fill his ears.  
  
Presently, he came to the realization that he could flex or relax his arm, and from that information he decided that he was neither dead nor paralyzed. Carefully, slowly, he pushed himself up off what he could feel to be a rough stone floor. His eyes now adjusted to the dark, and he found he could see after all as well. He looked up and gasped in amazement; the roof of the cavern (for cavern it was, he now could see) extended some vast distance above him. He recalled the events that had led him to fall: the climbing of the tree; the consuming of the star; the quarrel with Aliena. A tear came to his eye at this last recollection. It ran down his cheek and dripped with a splash onto the floor.  
  
The cavity he was in, he theorized, must have existed long before the falling branch had split it open and thrown him into it. Undoubtedly, the hole through which he had fallen must lie somewhere above him, though the evident darkness suggested it was so high that the starlight did not - could not - shine upon him, so vast was the distance he had descended through the gray air. He doubted that any attempt at a return journey would turn to fruit, and in despair, he sat on the floor and put his head in his hands.  
  
The ringing in his ears persisted (as did the pain throughout his body), but rather than linger around him, the sound seemed to be emanating from some foreign point. As he listened, it seemed to him that it was not at all the angry ring he had first heard, but a sort of dull boom, obscured by miles of the encompassing stone. Noting that, while uncomfortable and unceasing, the blanket of anguish could be ignored for periods of time and thus me made a mere nuisance, he collected himself from the floor and devised to discern the source of the noise that even still filled his ears.  
  
Tracing the slope of the floor, he found that a passage opened yawningly near the lowest side of the cavity, which was nearly thirty feet wide (to his estimate) at its base. He entered this passage and proceeded down it, noting happily that although it turned sharply about several times, it continued in more or less a steady direction, and that, as he traversed it, the sound grew steadily louder. Presently, he recognized the disturbance the telltale sounds of falling water - another waterfall! - and his pace quickened slightly to carry him more quickly towards his prize.  
  
He rounded the last corner and stopped, his breath stuck in his throat. Here was a small stream, flowing from one crack in the earth to another, undoubtedly fed by the falls he heard now sharper then ever echoing through his head. The water, however, was not what had given him pause; there was a creature in front of him, something hideous and lacking in any semblance of beauty. It was a pale-fleshed, hairless creature, wrapped in the flayed skin of some unfortunate prey animal. It was bent in an unflattering position, dipping its paw into the murky water in an effort to hydrate itself.  
  
It grunted, its thirst apparently slaked, and urinated on the stone floor of the chamber. Lucian wrinkled his nose in disgust.  
  
"What are you?" he said quietly. The creature turned around quickly, apparently roused by the noise. It jerked its paw out towards Lucian, and he could see that the wretch had a small, sharp-hewn stone cupped between its fingers. It was this moderately threatening item that the creature now waved menacingly at him. Lucian stepped forward, unfazed.  
  
"I wonder how you got down here," Lucian murmured, moving past the creature towards the door. If animals can come down here, he thought, perhaps I can get out somehow.  
  
"You can speak!" it gasped.  
  
"So can you," Lucian said after a pause. This was interesting indeed. He had assumed that he and Aliena were unique in their intelligence - and the existence of this creature was proof of that assumption's fallacy.  
  
The creature crossed its front legs - arms - defiantly. "Dugan always speak. Others say Dugan speak too much. Dugan smash their heads." Lucian's eyes widened. This 'Dugan' spoke of violence without care, as one might talk of walking down a forest path or bathing in a shallow pool, or a hundred other casual pastimes! Was such destruction - such evil - nothing to him?  
  
Sorrow returned momentarily as Lucian recalled how he had similarly struck down Aliena with regard to naught but his own madness. Tears welled in his eyes, the image of her body, lying prone and lifeless, flashed before him-  
  
"Where Dugan at?" Dugan grunted. Lucian blinked, clearing the tears away. The wretch was eyeing him with curiosity.  
  
"I don't know," Lucian said, half to the creature and half to himself. "How did you get here, anyway?" he asked it.  
  
"Dugan running. Water fall from the skies, and Dugan get all wet. Big boom and light. Dugan fall down hill. Then Dugan wake up here." The creature barely seemed to speak in coherence, and for a moment, Lucian wondered if perhaps it was merely mimicking him, as would a parrot or mockingbird. The account of the storm, however, rang true, and so he decided to play along.  
  
"Where was the storm? The lightening, where was it coming from?"  
  
"Over the hills, where the wind goes. Dugan don't like it down there." He must have been south of our valley, Lucian thought, remembering the pattern of north-flowing winds that filled the garden. He opened his mouth to ask more, but Dugan held up a grubby paw - hand.  
  
"You ask Dugan questions. Dugan answer. Dugan ask you question but you no know the answer. Dugan's turn to ask you now." Lucian sighed and waved his hand, signaling the wretched to go on. "Are you devil?" the creature asked.  
  
"Devil?" Lucian repeated, unsure of himself. The word was foreign to his lips, and it fit no meaning in his mind. "What is that?"  
  
"Devil is bad one. Others tell Dugan that Devil hurt God-spirit, so God- spirit throw him to Hell. Is this Hell?"  
  
Lucian looked around at the barren walls of stone and dirty shallows of the stream. "It might as well be," he conceded.  
  
Dugan seemed to accept that as a yes, for he followed it with a low-growled "You Devil then?"  
  
Lucian thought over the horrible crime he had committed, and of the awful loss of his love resultant of his unchecked ambition. He blinked another tear away, murmuring, "Yes, I suppose I am."  
  
Dugan nodded. "Dugan think you were. Others tell Dugan he go to Hell one day. Others say he smash too many heads. Dugan never care - he smash their heads too. Then they no say he going to Hell anymore."  
  
Lucian briefly noted the return of the wretch's violent speech, but forgot it suddenly as the implications of the wretch's lament sunk in - there were 'others'. There were more people in the world, other beings with whom he could converse. They would never fill the void Aliena had left, he knew, but at least he would not alone.  
  
"Dugan, where are these 'others'?"  
  
"Away, in village. Near where Dugan fall down. Maybe they here one day. Maybe not - they not bad people like Dugan. They no smash heads like Dugan does."  
  
Lucian stroked his chin. "Perhaps I could find them."  
  
Dugan shook his head. "Others say no one comes back from Hell."  
  
Lucian smiled. "If I can get in, I can get out."  
  
***  
  
He followed the path and the sounds of the water, and the cave began to slope upwards. Dugan had elected not to join him, and so he had walked on and on alone, fighting exhaustion for as long as he could. He fell asleep on three separate occasions, waking suddenly with no memory of falling, his limbs soaked in drool and spittle. He would rise again, his muscles sore, and struggle on for as long as he could before falling again.  
  
After what seemed months of walking, light came into view in the distance. The tunnel by now had leveled off and continued for some distance without bend or break. He felt as though he was at some high altitude, but alone beneath the surface of the earth it was impossible to know for sure.  
  
The hours staggered by, and the light grew steadily brighter, until at last it became apparent that he had found some flaw, some break in the stone that betrayed his subterranean domain to the world above. He reached it soon after, and found that it was but a crack, a narrow slit of light no longer than his hand.  
  
From that sliver, however, he could make a door. Summoning back his vanished strength, he pushed and scraped at the flaw, and presently it yielded to his efforts and widened until it was large enough to squeeze through. He bent and pushed his way to the outside, then stood and shielded his eyes from the blinding glare. The twilight glow of the stars seemed to have grown brighter a thousand fold whilst he had been trapped beneath the earth.  
  
He was standing on a broad plateau. Tall grasses and the occasional cactus dotted it, and, creeping to the nearby edge, he could see the familiar garden valley and waterfall below. Seeing that he could not hope to descend at that place, he decided to follow the cliffside west, towards the region where, far below, he had discovered the river. He traced the curve of the mountaintop for a quarter of a mile or so, and then stopped, breathless.  
  
Over the left side of the ridge - away from the garden valley - a great silver body like a bed of diamonds greeted him, glittering in the starlight. After a moment, he realized with a jolt that it was water - a vast expanse of open water, extending to the edge of his vision. Even the raging river or thundering falls that had held him prisoner paled in contrast with this massive sea, so great in diameter that he could not even see the far side. He was held enthralled by its sheer beauty, and for a few minutes, he forgot his search for Dugan's 'others'.  
  
He was snatched from his enchantment with the sea by the sound of singing. Moreover, it was a woman's voice - Aliena! He turned quickly to ascertain from whence the voice was coming. There, on a lower area of the plateau, she sat, surrounded by mountain goats and clad in strange and exotic - to Lucian's eyes - garments: a grass skirt, a blouse of animal fur, and a hat made of river reeds. A lyre lay in her hands, and she played it as she sung. Lucian drew near, but she did not spot him. Her eyes were closed in concentration. Lucian floated around her, caressing her with his eyes.  
  
He approached her from behind and affectionately drew his arms around her chest. Her eyes flew open in surprise, and she tried to turn to see his face. Playfully, he moved to keep behind her and held her closer. She was smiling in confusion; she did not seem to know her admirer's identity.  
  
He leaned into her neck and kissed her lightly. Her smile faded slightly and she began to squirm. He slid his hand over her cheek and moved her head to look into his eyes.  
  
He blinked. She was not Aliena.  
  
At the same moment, they both screamed. She tried to push him away; he held her fast, uncomprehending. Her neck grew red where he had kissed her, and her cheek darkened at the spot where his hand had brushed it. She screamed louder, writhing in his arms. Flames erupted from her cheek and neck, and from her arms, where he clutched her. The fire engulfed her, he held her tighter still. Tears dripped from his eyes, sizzling where they touched her burning flesh.  
  
No, no, no, he pleaded silently. Not again...  
  
The destruction consumed her, and her screams ended, leaving Lucian clutching silently the charred mass of her flesh. The goats had scattered at the sight of the fire, and all was suddenly still. The lyre, blackened but not destroyed, lay discarded in the grass where it had fallen from the woman's startled hands. In the distance, the waves crashed on some unseen shore. Wind played with his hair. No living sound could be heard.  
  
"So this is my punishment," he said to no one. "I cast aside my love once when I was blinded by my ambition, and now I shall never know a mortal love again. All that I hold shall turn to ash in my arms, and I shall be alone forever." He looked around. The world suddenly seemed an empty, unforgiving place. He longed to quit it forever, to end his miserable existence and find the solace of rest. Perhaps, in death, he could at last reunite with his beloved.  
  
The cliffside was close; beyond it, the roaring sea. No one would ever find him. No one would ever know his pain. He let the woman's burnt body slide from his hands, and walked to the edge. Squeezing shut his eyes, he leapt from the edge, waiting for the collision with the sandy beach to collide with his body and at least give him peace.  
  
It never came.  
  
He opened his eyes after a moment, amazed to find himself floating on the air. A pair of thick, black-feathered wings had suddenly appeared, and these now held him aloft. He was quiet for a moment, confused, and then he laughed bitterly.  
  
"So," he said, "even the solace of death is to be denied me. How ironic that he who deserves most among the world to die a tragic death shall not be allowed to die."  
  
He heaved forward, and found that the wings responded to his commands. He gave a mighty flap and soared out above the sea. Far off, over the water, a dark cloud floated. He made for this cloud, and as he flew, the skies around him darkened as well. He reached the cloud and entered it, his jet plumes slicing through the soft ball of air. Inside, rain pelted him, stinging his eyes. Thunder boomed, assaulting his ears. Lightning flashed, blinding him.  
  
His anger bristled at these paltry attacks, and he recalled his grief at Aliena's death; his despair at being locked beneath the ground; his sorrow at the pyre that had consumed the goat-herder woman; and his raw anger and bitterness at the death denied him. Emotions welled up within him like boiling water, threatening to explode.  
  
He could not escape. He could not even know the relief of death. The wretched world had him trapped, he realized then, and the realization pushed him over the edge. He screamed into the storm, a fierce, inhuman scream, like the cries of some tortured animal. He tried to rip his wings from his body, and then his arms and legs and head.  
  
His eyes flashed with the lightening. His heart beat with the thunder. His blood ran with the rain.  
  
***  
  
Below, the water rose. Villages sank beneath the waves, their inhabitants drowned in the wrath of the storm. The rain fed the ocean as it rose high over the edge of the ridge, sliding down into the garden beyond like righteous fury, consuming all it surveyed. The great tree which stood so long beneath the weight of the sky buckled under the weight of the surging waves, collapsing upon the flooded valley below.  
  
The garden had died.  
  
*** 


End file.
